Like Mist
by OkitaRin
Summary: Like mist, there were strange rumours that were seeping through all the schools of Japan – rumours of an undefeatable teenager in basketball, with mismatched eyes and a demon's laugh.
1. Undefeated

**A/N: DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN NOR KUROKO NO BASUKE.**

**Hey guys! Despite my already ongoing fics and my lack of updates, I have decided to start ANOTHER one. This fic is going to have short chapters and I really enjoyed writing this chapter as Mukuro is one of my favourite characters of all time. So I hope you enjoy it as much as I have in writing this :)**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><em><strong>Fandoms: Katekyo Hitman Reborn & Kuroko no Basuke**_

_**Like Mist**_

_**Chapter One: Undefeated**_

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><p>It was the typical day to terrorise the pathetic street teams in their favourite sport- a sunny day with little to no clouds. Birds chirped and the outdoor basketball court lay rugged and appealing in all its sun-drenched glory.<p>

Kirihaya Kenta grinned wildly, his dark, slicked hair dripping with sweat from his last play. It was only early in the afternoon and already, they had won mercilessly against some little team whom kept proclaiming on and on of victory and friendship and team-play.

To say the least, that little team was quickly put into their place. It was perfectly natural- after all they owned this basketball court. They were the kings- undefeated as of yet. It was only natural should they- the kings of this street, command order over the courts.

Along with his burly captain, there were five others of his team, each just as muscly. It was an understatement to say that he was quite proud of his team, quite proud of their status and quite proud of their undefeated winning streak. Quite proud indeed.

So when the entire team came across a tall, lanky teen in their territory, he hadn't been at all afraid. After all, the teen was pale, slender, with barely any visible muscle and adorned with the most ridiculous hairstyle they've ever seen. He was holding onto their worn basketball with the tips of his fingers, turning it over and over as if seeing one for the first time.

"Brat. What do you want?" The captain hollered at him, backed by the menacing glares of his team. "Get off of my territory!"

"Oh?" The teenager's head shot up abruptly with mismatched eyes, one a dark, smouldering blue and the other an equally vivid scarlet. "Is this yours?"

His gaze scarred, and in one stance, Kirihaya found it imprinted horrifyingly across his vision. He stepped back out of self-preservation and received a dark look from his captain, one that paled many shades in comparison.

The captain reared up his large, muscular figure, glowering over the teen in intimidation. Yet the red-blue gaze only pierced brighter, it's owner unimpressed and seemingly amused. If the captain noticed, he took no heed.

"Sissy boys like you shouldn't even be here!" He continued in his stereotypically gruff grunt, his face twisting menacingly. His team followed suit, each bringing out their worst faces, and glares. "This is a place for _men_. Look here, pretty boy. This court belongs to _us_. _We _are the undefeated champions of this court. So go away. Play with your dolls and trim your hair or something, and what's with your hairstyle- a _pineapple_? What? You think you're _fashionable_?" The captain continued his tirade, ignoring the growing, _noticeable_ aura surrounding the teen.

Kirihaya only stood by his captain, cracking his knuckles ominously. Yet even he was startled as all of a sudden, the boy's demeanour became positively dark.

"Kufufu..." It was the softest and strangest laugh and before he knew it, Kirihara was trembling at the knees. "What did you just say?"

Oblivious, the captain ploughed on, smirking. "Hit a nerve, didn't I? _Pineapple_."

There was a low silence. A sudden wind blew; unnaturally cold against the warm rays of sunshine. The teenager broke out again into that chuckle, the amusement no longer evident against his pale, flawless features.

"Kufufu… kufufu…" He laughed, a contrast to the twitching of one eye that mirrored the slight fidget of his long fingers- almost as if contemplating murder. It stopped abruptly, just like his laugh and all of a sudden, the orange basketball was on the tips of his finger, spinning effortlessly. "Say… Captain." He began mockingly, his voice lilting, dangerous. "How about a game? Basketball, wasn't it? Your team against me?"

He was going to _crush_ them. Their pride, their sport, their honour- a thing more painful then any permanent maim or mental torture.

Unknowingly, the captain agreed to his team's fate with one meaty arm.

And so it began, the rumours that will circle and seep through Japan. A couple ten metres radius from that point, passing people dismissed the distant cacophony of curdling, manly screams.

But, alas, it has begun. Like a stone rolling down a gradual slope, there was no stopping of the whispers and talk that, like mist, will seep through all the schools of Japan- rumours of an undefeatable teenager in basketball, with mismatched eyes and a demon's laugh.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! I'll get on to writing the Kuroko no Basuke characters once I get a hang of their personalities. <strong>


	2. Rumours

"Have you heard?"

Slowly but surely whispers were being carried along, as if like mist themselves, seeping through the areas one by one. It was like a whirlwind of hushed information spun by freshmen and seniors alike, each story more unheard of than the last.

That there was a teenager playing basketball.

"Yes, I've heard! I've heard!"

Who played a team's game explicitly by himself. That he challenged whole teams. Independently, dangerously, deadly.

"His victims _scream_."

Whose supposed style of basketball stuns and paralyses his victims on the court, victims who later screech horrifyingly of snakes and tridents and lotus flowers. The rumours talk of a boy, their age; the undefeated champion on the basketball court; the boy who has mercilessly _crushed_- no,_ traumatised _the people whom went in his way, disappearing after every game.

"They say he's the devil reincarnated."

His group of fan-girls were growing, even at this very moment, as they hear of this supposedly dark, tall and mysterious sporting _genius_. A couple have seen him in person- seen the elegance of his slender physique and the flawlessly crafted features of a face so fine, almost feminine in beauty yet undeniably masculine and framed by long locks a shade lighter than night. He was _more_ than handsome, _more_ than charming and his fangirls hasten to spread the news.

In the most recent area bombarded, two senior students of Rakuzan could only stare at a younger boy with twitching features and mouth agape in rapid disbelief and doubt. They, too, have heard of these increasingly famous rumours and have actively attempted to seek out the truth within the lies. Yet, before them, stood their current information source, the shorter boy who had literally appeared out of nowhere, light green hair poking out from under the most ridiculous hoodie in existence.

"He laughs funny. And he has a pineapple like _this_ on his head." The green-haired male deadpanned with the most emotionless voice, his arms imitating something incomprehensible on top of his humongous hood.

Still, the search for this unexpected basketball phenomenon continued.

And from the perspective of the oblivious subject of all the rumours, the public menace named Rokudo Mukuro wondered about the increasing number of relatively muscular, tall students approaching him out of nowhere. They all seemed to have something in common- an unconditional love for the sport of basketball, something that the mist-user never bothered to research into.

He has wondered about the increasing number of foolish basketball players who have donned a look of realisation at his hair, and had the audacity to mutter things related to the forbidden 'p' word, a ridiculous rumour and how it was true. Those fools were immediately dealt with of course, as they found themselves summoned to the basketball courts and KO-ed- literally- before they even realised they were in a game.

Miles away, one Namimori middle school student, Sawada Tsunayoshi wondered why and what his reluctant mist guardian did whenever he disappeared, to return with such an irritated but satisfied aura.


End file.
